


For A Diamond Ring

by apricari



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Hannibal Loves Will, M/M, Murder, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27048562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apricari/pseuds/apricari
Summary: It’s late one night in Milan when Will begins.They are walking down the street when they pass a man walking a dog. The dog stops to sniff a bush, and the man tugs on the leash, hard. The dog puts its ears down and obediently follows.When Hannibal looks up, the man is giving Will a thin smile, clearly caught by Will’s gaze. They pass each other, and there’s a change in degree; a shift in Will’s mood. When they are a reasonable distance away, Will seizes Hannibal’s hand.“Wait,” Will whispers. His hand is hot and damp against Hannibal’s skin, and it sends a twitchy jolt to his fingertips. “Come with me.”
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 70





	For A Diamond Ring

Will sits in a beam of sunlight with his eyes closed, calm.

He’s within reach. Hannibal would touch him, but he doesn’t know what Will might do. He weighs the potential rewards against the risk that Will might reject him again, in this way. He keeps his hands to himself.

-

It’s late one night in Milan when Will begins.

They are walking down the street when they pass a man walking a dog. The dog stops to sniff a bush, and the man tugs on the leash, hard. The dog puts its ears down and obediently follows.

When Hannibal looks up, the man is giving Will a thin smile, clearly caught by Will’s gaze. They pass each other, and there’s a change in degree; a shift in Will’s mood. When they are a reasonable distance away, Will seizes Hannibal’s hand.

“Wait,” Will whispers. His hand is hot and damp against Hannibal’s skin, and it sends a twitchy jolt to his fingertips. “Come with me.”

He sinks into the shadows, the bare outline of him slinking toward the corner around which the man had turned. Hannibal breathes in the scent of him, changed, the charge in the air around him like the premonition of a thunderstorm. He follows.

-

They wait until the man is on the road near a patch of nature, out of sight of any windows. “Grab him,” Will orders.

Hannibal captures the man from behind, and the man flails, kicking the dog. It yelps and strains to get away. Will snatches the leash and lets the dog loose.

Hannibal shoves the man to the ground, and before he can scramble away Will is on top of him. He’s uttering words so low Hannibal can only hear the beautiful, awful tone of Will’s voice, guttural.

Will strangles the man with the leash. He pulls so tightly it cuts into the man’s neck, and Will keeps pulling after the man is already dead.

It’s not a time or place to have bloody clothes. Hannibal has to call his name several times before Will stops.

The dog cowers near a hedge. It warms to Will quickly, Will working his magic, and it isn’t long before the dog sits for him.

“We cannot keep it,” says Hannibal.

“I know,” says Will. “I know it’s risky. I don’t care. Let’s take it to a shelter.”

“The dog hair—“

“I don’t care,” Will said again. “Please.”

Standing there, in the dark with the dog already in Will’s lap, he feels on the edge of a different precipice. Will wants the dog. The dog is an unnecessary risk. It will make Will happy, with him. If he agrees, Will would stay.

“Yes,” he says. “Leave the leash.”

-

They drop the dog at a shelter on the edge of town without incident. Will looks vacant when he returns to the car.

“Will?”

“Thank you,” Will says.

-

They kill another in Brindisi. The worse the infraction, the more risk there was to the crime; they follow a date rapist from a venue that had cameras. Will’s chest heaves, breathing harsh from the adrenaline. He stares down at his handiwork. Hannibal can only see him.

“What will you take?” Will asks.

There isn’t much they can do with the body. They lack the tools, a permanent space. Hannibal thinks of his past souvenirs, how he enjoyed taking them, cooking, consuming.

“Nothing,” he says. “I have all I need.”

-

It all falls apart in Greece.

En route, Hannibal isn’t sure why he chose Mykonos. He owns houses in countries without extradition treaties; he leases apartments in cities that don’t attract as many American tourists. When he ignores the view of the city from their balcony for the way Will looks set against the backdrop of the Aegean Sea, he thinks it could be out of masochism as much as hope.

It’s easier here than any place they have been to pose as a couple. Their documents list them as having been married in New York. Hannibal took his name. He gives Will his new papers. Will goes over them silently. When he’s done, he tucks them away.

The duration of their stay in Mykonos is also longer than any other place they’d run to. Two months pass. In that time Will picks out four victims. 

“We must be more careful,” says Hannibal.

“I’ve waited for over two weeks. I let the last one go. You want this,” Will insists. “Wanted this, with me. As much as I do.”

“I do not want us to be caught. You seem determined to make that happened. Will, please.”

Will brutalizes the next kill. He doesn’t tell Hannibal about the wrong. He takes the thymus for Hannibal while the woman is still alive. He’s beautiful as he does it, tongue between his teeth, organ in hand as he watches her bleed out.

“They’re going to know it’s us,” Hannibal promises.

Will circles the body, looking at all he’s done. 

“People will think we’re in love,” he says.

-

A month later, Will scents trouble in a club they’d hunted in before. He grabs Hannibal’s shirt, just the sleeve, and the suggestion of touch sends a premonition of lightning through him.

They’d cornered fast. Will grabs his hand as they weave through the narrow allies between white walls and out of the city. They run into dusty countryside, and are surrounded by the buzz of machinery and shouting. Hannibal doesn’t know where Will is running to in the night.

The headlight beams from behind them only stretch so far ahead of them before the way is dark. The white of Will’s shirt blinds him. He can’t see what’s coming.

There’s the crack of a shot and Will stumbles. Hannibal catches the explosion of red on his white shirt and feels the spray on his face as Will falls behind. He slides to a stop in the dust and turns back and it’s after that he hears two more shots. A sting hits the back of his thigh and another hits his shoulder and he falls. He smells blood and dirt and sweat.

When he finds Will from where he is on the ground, Hannibal can only see the crown of his head, the limp slump of his shoulders and the splay of his arms to one side like a dog. Blood is already pooling on the dusty earth beneath him.

He reaches for Will, crawls toward him, and knows that he cannot reach, not as much of Will as he needs. It can’t be borne, his mind speaks on some level, that they should end like this. That Will isn’t in his arms, that he can’t see his eyes. That he wouldn’t taste and had barely touched.

The thought wrenches him. He thinks he must be shouting Will’s name. He reaches, his hand slips in blood and dust and his fingertips brush a warm curl before they haul him away.

-

He still gets solicitors during his second stint in the BSHCI. Alana Bloom doesn’t run it anymore. There had been little for him to do for five years though less that would remind him of Will. He falls through those traps often; he’s not inclined to keep himself from the version of Will that dwells in his mind palace. 

There he can see Will’s eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a short bit where Hannibal has a bad time, and it turned out that Will is a Hellish creature put in the world to just for him and so this is that.
> 
> If you’d like to send me a prompt, you can find me on twitter @apricarimy. DMs are open or you can reply to the pinned tweet.


End file.
